Last week

It has been a few days since we last spoke, so please allow me a insufficiently quick description of a few of the activities I’ve lately participated.

Cake delivery
Last Friday marked the 23 years my friend and brother-from-another-mother, Kevin P. had been on this earth. Because of the generosity of the community here as well as his general genial persona, he received to whole birthday cakes. One of which he did not want to go to waste. Since we couldn’t eat both, Kev decided we should pass out the remains to some of the locals around his villa – i.e. the guards, the police, the street sweeper, a nearby family of squatters, etc. In all honesty, when he called me, I had no desire to join him as I was in the middle of a mission on my most current video game. Alas, the Spirit won and drug me off my fat butt to do some Kingdom work. It was good.

Diversity
Every so often something will happen that reminds me of the awesome diversity of youth with which we work. On Monday, I jumped in on a basketball game with an Egyptian, Sudanese, South African, and American. Does it get better?

Rite of passage
Last Saturday 7 adult men took one 12 year old boy into the desert, for within the week, that boy would become a man. Not in the way western culture defines it; in fact, just the opposite. The culture we call home has divorced rites of passage into manhood thus leaving us with clueless, confused boys trapped in 40+ year old bodies. The 7 of us decided we would train this one differently and spoke words of affirmation and encourage into this (now) young man's life. We also tried to explain a bit of what he could expect but also remind him that we would be there to walk with him along the perilous journey.
One week from tomorrow I will baptize this young man into the body of Christ. Unreal.

Weather/ sickness
Most places around the world claim to have four seasons of weather. Cairo fits that mold but in a slightly unexpected format. Normal seasons = Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter. Egyptian seasons = Spring, Khamsin, Summer, Pre-spring. There is no Autumn, but rather when the heat becomes too unbearable at the end of Spring and into Khamsin, then any leaves that managed to sprout wither and die. It takes less than a week for the whole process.
Now you might be saying, "Kyle, what is this new Arabic you've learned? We uninformed Westerners don't understand that funky language." Well my friends, consider this your first lesson in Arabic. A khamsin (phonetically: hard kh like your [k]hawking up a pile of mucus from the back of your throat, kh-ah-m-seen) is what the Egyptians refer to as the 50 days of intense winds and sand storms that sweep the country. Allow me to paint this desert picture for you with a quick tale. Last week, a couple of us jumped out to the local wadi (dried river valley) for a swift 5k jog. When we reached our turn around spot, we stopped rub our eyes in disbelief (and to clear the sand now raining in our faces). The usually visible-despite-the-smog skyline of greater Cairo had been removed and replaced with a massive, "thick and dreadful darkness".
Now that you know what it looks like outside, how about a brief explanation of how it feels. Today it did not get hotter than 28C (82F). The previous day it was nearly 40C (104F). Needless to say, this weather will jack with a person's immune system. Many people I've encountered complain of headaches, soar throats, and overall weariness. I am not immune.

Warnings
I never have actually met anyone who experienced persecution for their faith until lately. One of my yoga buddies and local saint seeking simply to bring cup of cold water to the thirsty has recently received some serious warnings regarding his status in the country. He travels a lot. It has happened to others without warning, they just don't let you back into the country. And I complain about the weather.

Prison visit
To cap it off, our team took a visit to one of the Egyptian prisons. After multiple frisks and personal space violations we were allowed to interact with the prisoners. We met a group of Nigerian inmates who had been arrested for anything from drug possession and trafficking to simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time. MCC sends a man a couple times a week to maintain our cell ministry there (bad pun, but not intended). These men held sweet joy in there smiles and conversed with pleasure and ease.
One of the men who joined our team for the day was on business in Cairo from Nigeria and heard, by the grace of God, that his childhood friend happened to be held in this prison. Upon their reunion, the tears, joyous tears that wrecked his face darkened and dried as they rolled down that black-as-midnight skin into a prideful finger pointing to the gloomy reality of cold, gray prison bars.


After all these events, starting with my entrance to this country, then culminating in Romania and perusing my life still this is the one thing I’ve learned: serve others before yourself. It suddenly makes sense.